Scene 7: Darkest Before the Dawn
The break was brief but welcome. Cecil felt as if he were minutes away from a moment that would change his life forever. His heart hammered in anticipation. Like a beacon of light the tomb gleamed, as if to pull him in. Was he as a moth to a flame, sucked into the promise of redemption while facing the pinnacle of his destruction?
Cecil shook his head. "I'll take the lead," he said as he adjusted his helm. "Tellah, bring up the rear. Okay, is everyone ready?"
"Uh-huh." Palom bounced up and down.
Porom flashed her brother a look of annoyance. "Yes."
Tellah merely nodded. He seemed ill at ease, but said nothing.
Planting a foot on the first plank of the bridge, Cecil tested the integerity of the wood. Seemed solid enough. He waved the others over. Gripping the rope railing firmly Cecil advanced towards the tomb, his gaze never shifting downwards. He wasn't afraid of heights, but he wasn't exactly fond of them either. As the captain of an airship the dark knight was intimtately familiar with them, but never felt as comfortable with it as did Kain. The dragoon would be bounding over the board, spear in tow.
A grimace spread over his face. The man he'd called friend was no more. In his place was a traitor, turning on his brother-in-arms and assisting in the theft of a crystal and allowing his master steal away with Rosa. What come over the dragoon Cecil knew naught, but he did know two things: he would rescue Rosa and never be seduced by the darkness like Kain.
And yet he was encased in a suit of armor like night blanketed him, carrying a sword as dark as a slab of obsidian.
He swallowed. How could the light ever accept a soul so stained?
Behind him the mages and the sage followed him, Palom constantly commenting on the strange fog that suddenly descended, immediately accompanied by his sister's sharp rebuke. Though the bridge swayed and groaned a few times it remained intact and the four passed over it in short order, approaching the other side swiftly.
Of course nothing could be so simple.
"Impressssssssive," hissed a familliar voice. "But my true strength lies in death and now you shall join me in it!"
A creaulen bolt burst down from the heavens, striking the middle of the bridge. It split the bridge in two, sending the half the party travelled on spinning downwards. Fortunately the poles attached to that half pulled the ropes attached taut, and kept them aloft. For however long they could manage to keep hold on the boards and not plunge thousands of feet to their death, that was.
Though the dark knight had heard the twins and Tellah cry out in fear, he felt as if everything had gone silent. He couldn't hear his own scream of terror, nor the sounds of the bridge maintaining their weight on an angle the dark knight knew it would not for long, nor even his own harsh breathing. Somehow Cecil felt removed from it all.
That's when he realized he was actually quite calm.
"Hang on!" he called to be heard amidst the wind and fog. He did not need to invest his voice with confidence, somehow it was there aplenty. The dark knight took inventory with a glance down. The twins hung desperately to a single board, looking up at him hopefully. Further down was Tellah, looking dazed, probably from the wound to his shoulder.
"Tellah, you'll need to teleport us to safe ground."
No response. "Tellah?" Again, nothing. The dark knight assessed his options. Clearly the sage had sustained an injury that had him half-lucid, and unable to spell them out of there. The twins knew no spells that advanced. Certainly Cecil was completely useless that way, not even knowing some of the terminology of magics let alone spellcasting anything.
"Palom, Porom, one after another you'll need to climb up the bridge and then help keep the poles steady."
Staring at one another the siblings froze, faces radiating fear. With a determined frown, Cecil leaned down as far as he dared and reached the nearest twin, Palom, and gripped his shoulder. "You must listen to me. Start climbing. Right now."
His mouth working with no sound, the black mage finally found his voice. "No, let my sister go first."
"Palom!" His sister gasped, shocked. "No!"
Deciding for her, Cecil snatched her by the robe and pulled her up a few of the planks. Her gaze flew downwards, horrified, but before she could balk, the dark knight pushed her onwards and upwards, taking her place near Palom. When at least the white mage ascended fully, holding onto a pole as if her very life depended on it. Or maybe because her brother's very life depended on it. All of theirs.
"You, now. And no more arguments!" Cecil snapped, almost hurling Palom up on ahead. Muttering something and nothing all at the same time, the black mage too made it safely to the top, immediately mirroring his sister by clutching the other pole. The two made some sort of exchange about Palom being foolhardy but the dark knight dismissed it.
Instead of ascending the bridge, Cecil made his way to Tellah, praying the whole that time Tellah was neither too badly hurt nor apt to fall. What kept the mage locked to the bridge puzzled the dark knight until he caught a glimpse his robe stuck around one of the boards. Realizing the possible dangers of that, Cecil maintained a steady but slow pace towards him.
Now the confidence was ebbing like his pace; slowly but steadily. The twins were secure, but dragging an unconscious man up the bridge would take nothing less than a miracle. Cecil hoped that Tellah could be awakened in order to teleport them next to Palom and Porom but his mind searched for other options since that appeared vastly unlikely.
A board gave way beneath Cecil's foot and he scrambled to kept hold of the bridge, glancing down as it tumbled into the darkness below.
He could afford time no more. Hurrying as fast as he dared Cecil reached Tellah's side. His hand flew to the sage's face. He was muttering something delirously. The dark knight shook him a little, trying to bring him to full conciousness, but Tellah never awoke. His gaze going heavenward Cecil saw the black mage and white mage calling down to him, but the words failed to reach his ears.
Sighing, putting a lid on his mounting fear, the dark knight freed Tellah from entanglement, carerfully held him to his person and tried to ascend. The sage was not much more than flesh and bones and robes, but with the bridge so unsteady and with his own exhaustion Cecil feared he'd not make it. Still up and up he went, fighting against the feeling of doom etching its way on his bones.
With about a half dozen planks to go the bridge gave way entirely sending the dark knight and Tellah spinning towards the darkness.
He had to protect Tellah somehow. Someway. Somehow. Even as they fell, Cecil kept tight rein on his terror, clutching the mage to him. If he could somehow contort his body to keep it between Tellah and the ground perhaps the sage might be spared death. But considering how far they would fall, and how hard the ground was below...
"T--teleport!"
With a burst of silver light and the two vanished to appear on the mountain a heartbeat later.
Stumbling to a knee, Cecil gagged. Palom hugged him fiercely while his sister did the same to Tellah.
"We thought you goners!" Palom nearly suffocated him.
"We didn't know what to do!" The white mage echoed his fear.
Brushing off his robes as he brushed off the young white mage, Tellah rose and said, "I must have bumped my head, but I'll be fine." Then a frown crossed his face. "Cecil you should have gone on without me. I would have recovered and teleported myself out of there when I came to."
Pushing away Palom, Cecil stood also. "When you came to...? Would you have ever? How could I risk that?"
"I'm an old man," snarled the sage. "You're young yet."
Before either of the men could argue the point a miasma of evil coned into presence not three feet away. The stench of death nearly overpowered them and Cecil had to put a fist to his face to keep from gagging again. Then a face appeared from the smoke, one that would leave nightmares in Cecil's sleep forever more. And what was said next made perfect sense.
"Those that see this face must die!"
Scarmiglione stood before them once more. Not a single zombie flanked him, but the dark knight sensed that he needed none. Aside from the twisted, scarred face what exhibited the fiend's undead state was the festering insects crawling out of his robes. One crawled up to Cecil's foot and he stomped on it most heartily.
"One who sees that face wants to die, I'd wager," Palom chimed in.
The mages and sage tightened a circle around Cecil, looking to him to lead them again. And he was ready again. Holding his sword in a figure-eight circle stance, he coldly told the fiend, "This is the end for you, not us." With that, he charged, muttering Rosa's name into his mouthpiece. His sword bounced off the fiend's body, making barely a scratch but the bravado (or foolhardiness?) of his assault threw Scarmiglione off his element, leaving him easy prey to one of Tellah's flame spells.
Uttering a tortured scream, Scarmiglione struck back, knocking Cecil to the ground. With a maggoty foot he intended to flatten the dark knight, but Cecil rolled out of the way, dodging it by a good two feet. A bolt of lightning flashed across the skies, leaving a column of smoke in the spot that would have been the ruin of the fiend had he been there. But he wasn't.
Palom hurled a number of comical insults at Scarmiglione but had to retreat when the fiend took a swipe at him. His sister let out a noisy breath and hauled him out of harm's way when the fiend made a second pass. Tellah pushed Scarmiglione back with a wall of flames giving the dark knight and the mages a chance to breathe.
A voice like the sound of hell's keeper came over that firey wall, ironically chilling their bones. "I'll smite your ruin upon the mountainside!" Then furthering that cold feeling creeping in their hearts, the fiend stepped right through the flames, sparks and smoke swirling around his form and he not looking much the worse for it.
"He's too strong," growled Tellah, hurriedly scanned his mage-books, looking for something, anything that would help. His magical reserves were almost depleted.
Cecil despaired that the sage was correct. The attack seemed to only fuel the First of Four's hunger for their flesh as he advanced upon them with increased eagerness. His own spirit began to flag but he grit his teeth and flashed his teammates a look of ease. Again he must play the hero, even if he felt he was the least equipped to do so.
And having the courage (or again, foolishness?) to do so was a fine thing, but he had to have a plan too.
For the first time since he'd known them Porom and Palom exchanged a deathly serious expression. It seemed a silent conversation was held in their eyes. Then they nodded simultaneously. The white mage turned to Cecil. "We need to hold off the fiend for us, Cecil. Palom and I have a spell that might destory him."
"Be brave again, dark knight," said Palom, bobbing his head. "For a little while longer."
"Palom..." Cecil's face radiated wonderment. "Porom..." Then he nodded. "Do your best, I'm counting on you too."
Tellah stood shoulder to shoulder with the dark knight. "We'll keep the bag of maggots away." As if to emphasis his point, the sage launched a large block of ice, piercing the fiend. Scarmiglione fell back, screaming in anger.
Approaching the "bag of maggots" Cecil felt fear crystalize in his veins like ice-cold water. He knew it was there, he felt it, yet somehow it did not halt his step, even make him breath heavily. The spell the twins spoke of was a timely process he knew, and Tellah was fast running out of magical repeitore. And the dark knight himself was spell-less and might as well have been weaponless for all the good Deathbringer was and yet he advanced upon the fiend to keep him at bay.
As the fiend's arm came down to splatter him to the ground the dark knight blocked it with his sword. Like when the ground beneath the twin's feet gave way or when the bridge was cleaved asunder Cecil felt a strange 'bad feeling' come over him and the moment he brought his sword to his face he knew why.
Deathbringer was little more than a kitchen knife, shards of her blade on the ground around him.
Then the fiend's enormous hand came down again. This time he had nothing to parry with. Desperately the dark knight dodged, feeling the elbow clip his shoulder and bowling him over. Tellah yelled somethng and when Cecil could glance over, he saw the sage on the ground a few feet away, probably hurled aside in an attempt to protect the dark knight.
Not enough time. Not...enough...time...
Cecil shut his eyes as he felt the shadow of the fiend's arm close over him. There was no room to manouver and nothing of which to defend himself with. Deathbringer in the best of form barely nicked the fiend; Deathbringer reduced to a butter knife was even less. And as always happens when faced with one's mortality time illogically slowed to a crawl giving Cecil the moment to recall a memory.
He was in Baron, standing in one of its beautiful rivers. In his hands was the ring, the memory of his lost love, a shard of a broken heart. Yet the feeling was so foreign as it had been the past few months. Cecil clutched it tightly for a moment then, one by one, his fingers unclasped, releasing the ring to the waters. Within seconds, it vanished.
That had been his last act of duty to his lost love, Nina, letting go of her as he let go of the ring. It had been no easy task. Cecil gave his heart away only when truly invested, and having to take it back unwillingly and after such a hard revelation had hurt him, made him resentful of his own battered heart.
Rosa did not heal him. She couldn't. No one could. Cecil came to that realization. And it had taken him many long months to realize that his pain was not something to just smile and nod about, but rather acknowledge how deeply it delved into his heart. How vulnerable he had been. He had felt like his heart was a sword he'd given in trust to a friend and had it returned, ruined. Like a sword, he'd sheathed his heart, ashamed of his own-percieved weakness, never wanting it brought to light again.
Here, now, he dropped the ring as he pulled out the sword, gifting his heart to another should she want it. He made that choice, then and there. Then Cecil left the river, off to find one he hoped would happily take his heart and keep it safe.
A roit of light exploded, blinding Cecil and dragging him into the present. When his sight cleared the dark knight witnessed a sight both paradoxically beautiful and horrible, that of Scarmiglione's ravaged body. Smoke wafted from it, flames burning so high not even the fiend could stomach or squelch it. It consumed the monster entirely, leaving naught but ash to drift off the mountain and off to the four winds.
"We did it!" Palom's voice rose in victory.
Cecil glanced hurriedly to his side but sighed in relief to see Tellah rise, brushing off his robes. "You two are amazing," the sage grunted. "The best sages of Mysidia probably couldn't manage that."
Prancing around, the black mage laughed. "Not even the Eld--Ow, what was that for!"
As one could imagine, it was his sister who silenced the gloating. "The Elder told us not to give into pride." But even she grinned, her eyes shining. She might be more contained in her joy at the success of the spell, but even Porom felt it.
The grin was infectious. Cecil rose, his own face beaming. "We did do it. All of us." His eyes trailed to the tomb but a few feet away. Like it was calling out to his soul, the dark knight longed to leave his companions behind and investigate the building's every nook and cranny to understand the pull, but let out a long sigh.
"We rest again. Then we press on further."
As the others made a campfire, the dark knight's eyes were drawn to the tomb again unable to shake the familiar feeling.